


gap year

by brandywine421



Series: Unfinished AUs of Flail (aka fail) [15]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M, Gen, M/M, Multi, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-19
Updated: 2016-11-19
Packaged: 2018-08-31 22:12:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8595805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brandywine421/pseuds/brandywine421
Summary: "I'm going to call you.  At least once a week, probably more," Steve said as he watched Scott and Clint say their final goodbyes to T'Challa at the entrance to the plane."Is that safe?" Sam asked even though he didn't actually give a fuck.Steve smiled.  "Good question, and yes.  It's - Wanda and I are official citizens of Wakanda now.  Refugee status, to be adjusted as necessary, since we're not actually going to be staying here."There was dullness in Steve's eyes that Sam recognized from the first few times they'd met.  When Bucky was dead and Steve was alive and alone."We're going to call it my 'gap year'.  I'll figure out my life later but for now I'm going to make some sandcastles," Steve said with a faint smile.  "Now go see your mother and say nice things about me so I can get one of her fruitcakes for Christmas."Steve would be getting all the fruitcakes if Sam had anything to say about it.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Politics, man. They make my head and heart hurt. I started out being totes mean to Tony and then I felt bad but not that bad and then I got bogged down trying to make things better and yeah. I really wish I could make this work. I ♥ it, kind of, a lot.
> 
> (This was my first actual attempt at Nano 2016.)

"I am sorry, Colonel Rhodes but I cannot let you leave the compound until I have received approval for your itinerary," Vision said as Tony walked into the lobby.  
  
"Tony - can you talk some sense into this guy?" Rhodey called, rubbing a hand across his face.  The prosthetics must be working well enough now for the doctors to clear him to leave the compound.  
  
Tony stepped over, not sure he had time for this, but Rhodey always came first.  He was one of the only things that mattered at all to him right now.  
  
"In Section 485 of Part C-18 of the Sokovian Accords, it states very clearly that any person or entity that possesses alien or accelerated technology must notify the attending council of the locality of their intentions to leave the designated area.  Colonel Rhodes' spinal hardware, unfortunately, falls under that caveat," Vision replied.  
  
"That doesn't mean what you think it means," Tony replied.  
  
"I assure you that I am interpreting it as intended.  He is free to leave, without the equipment, but he has agreed to be surveilled and monitored when he leaves the compound until he reaches another designated space if he is in possession of dangerous technology," Vision replied.  "I am awaiting confirmation from our governing entities," he added.  
  
"You know what?  Cancel that, Tony and I are going to go take a closer look at Section 485," Rhodey said.

* * *

  
"Your charges are dismissed," Steve said, hoarse from the lengthy interrogation and negotiations in T'Challa's private council.  It had been 52 hours since he'd slept.  
  
Sam and Clint immediately scanned him, disbelieving.  Wanda looked past him for a long moment before focusing on him.  
  
"All of them?  'Cause I broke parole leaving the state, and I don't really have a passport," Scott said, holding up his hand.  
  
Steve nodded.  "All of them.  The Accords are in full effect, our little pissing contest didn't change that; but none of you are wanted criminals.  You'll still be on watchlists - "  
  
"Shit, Cap, we've been on watchlists for years, part of the gig," Clint said.  But Steve could see the relief in the lines on his face.  
  
"How?" Sam asked carefully.  
  
"T'Challa's a good man.  He helped me work out a bargain to have the charges dropped.  It - I gave up the shield before I broke you guys out," Steve admitted.  "I renounced my citizenship to the United States as part of my deal."  
  
"Shit.  Steve, that means - " Sam staggered slightly and grabbed his arm.  
  
"I know what it means and it's fine," Steve said, clasping his hand over Sam's.  "It's never really felt like the America I remembered.  It's not my home, not anymore.  I have to make a new plan.  I have a chance now to find out who I am without a war."  
  
"Nothing wrong with retirement," Clint said.  
  
Sam released his arm and Steve moved over to sit down beside Wanda and take her tiny hand.  She wasn't a girl anymore, but she would always be delicate in his space.  She blinked at his hand a moment before her arms were around him, squeezing the little air he had managed to hold.  
  
"I'm so sorry, Wanda."  
  
She pulled back and glared at him with a fondness he didn't deserve.  "You came for us, Steve.  You got us into a mess but you got us out alive."  She put a hand on each cheek and made him look at her.  "Where is your friend?"  
  
He shuddered and recognized Sam's hand on his shoulder again.  He was too tired to process how long it must have been since she asked the question.  
  
"He's safe and alive.  He made the decision he thought was right for him.  I respect his choice," Steve said finally.  "I'll respect all of your choices, too."  
  
"Steve - what 'choice' did he make?" Sam whispered.  
  
"I can't," he said and shook off their hands for the moment.  "We're going to talk more, a lot, after I sleep but I need to tell you the basics now.  I owe you all my life, Bucky's life.  Thank you."  
  
Clint opened his mouth but Steve had to keep going, he needed to keep momentum or he'd lose track.  "I spoke to Dr. Pym, and Laura.  And Sam's mom," he blurted out.  "You all have your jobs, and your lives intact to go back to, if you want.  I plan on asking Wanda to stay with me so I don't have to start over on my own but right now I really need to lie down and think about this tomorrow.  Call your families, watch the news, read the new laws - whatever you want to do, I promise I'll make it happen..."  
  
"Sure thing," Scott said.  "Barton, get the door?  Sam, you find out where the big man's staying, and me and the lovely Ms. Maximoff will steer him in that general direction so he can pretend to be in charge for a little longer."  
  
He hadn't processed that the chair had wheels when he sat down but they found his room faster than he would have on his own.  
  
Sam's face filled his vision when they finally jolted the desk chair to a stop.  "We need your head in the game and you're officially off duty.  Stand down."  
  
He was completely okay with that.

* * *

  
"You always keep your real job, you never accepted a full-time position at the Avengers' compound," Wanda said from her post at Steve's uneventful bedside.  Sam looked away from his very eventful news feed on the laptop.  
  
"That's why he wants you to be able to go home.  You have a life outside of uniform.  Military and superhero," she said.  "Steve and I - we don't have that.  I - I'm glad he asked me.  I don't know what I'd do if - I don't know what to do now."  
  
Sam liked Wanda but he wouldn't deny that he didn't know her well.  He didn't think anyone did other than Vision, and Cap.  "I'm glad he asked you, too, but not for the same reasons.  He needs someone to look after him more than you do," he said, smiling when she glanced at him in surprise.  
  
"Don't leave him.  If you go with him, just...it's a lot to take on," Sam hesitated.  
  
She snorted and he winced.  "I don't give up on my friends.  Even when they're not at their best.  He started a war to help Barnes.  Cap deserves friends that would do the same for him," she said finally.  "I have nightmares, you know?  And he's my only friend that isn't afraid to come into my room and wake me up.  Even Vision wouldn't come in, said it wasn't polite or something."  
  
"Does Vision even know how sleep works?" Sam asked absently.  He'd never really considered it.  
  
She smiled.  "He doesn't have nightmares.  For a being that's supposed to be about saving humanity, he doesn't really have a great grasp on the concept of being human."  
  
Sam had a home, friends, to go back to.  Scott and Clint had families.  Wanda and Steve - Jesus.  They didn't have anything left without the Avengers.  
  
"I think we should choose somewhere warm.  Sunny.  Steve likes the sun," Wanda said, thoughtful.  
  
"Sounds right.  He's a city boy, though, not so much with the wilderness," Sam threw in.  
  
"Beach.  Close enough to something touristy that he can find a Starbucks but not an island so he's not surrounded by the sea," she said.  
  
"With warm water.  No matter what season, the water needs to be warm," Sam said and she nodded her agreement.  "Somewhere it'll never snow."

* * *

  
"He gave up all his medals, all his ranks, everything.  Basically, he's the most dishonorably discharged soldier ever," Scott said, flopping down onto the couch beside Sam after his 'private' meeting with Steve.  
  
Sam sighed.  "I know.  It's fucked up."  
  
Scott hummed.  "Yeah, but it's going to make those 2 percenters in DC shit themselves when they need him and don't have that leverage on him.  Like, sure, 'you wore our flag and saved millions of people in our name but you're not allowed to save that one guy so you're disowned'.  Captain America may have had shiny medals and shit, but he wouldn't break a guy like me out of jail.  I'm pretty proud Ant-Man got to fight with Steve instead of Captain America in his first international battle."  
  
It still wasn't fair.  
  
"Hey, he's a tough kid, he'll be all right," Scott said, bumping shoulders with him.  "Bet you didn't think you'd be the 'good one' when you signed up on Cap's team but you're the guy that I'm putting down as a reference now."  
  
Clint burst into the room with a dark expression and pointed at Scott.  "You."  
  
"Uh oh," Scott said.  "That's not a good start."  
  
"When my wife and your ex suggested a play date at my farm there was no invitation for a giant ant."  
  
"Giant ant?" Sam asked.  
  
Scott scrubbed a hand across his face.  "That's not technically my fault."  
  
"Giant ant on a farm.  My cows are traumatized and the chickens haven't laid eggs since they got there," Clint groaned.  "How did they even get it on a plane?"  
  
Scott shrugged.  "Sorry?"  
  
Clint sighed heavily.  "My kids all want ants now."

* * *

  
"I'm going to call you.  At least once a week, probably more," Steve said as he watched Scott and Clint say their final goodbyes to T'Challa at the entrance to the plane.  
  
"Is that safe?" Sam asked even though he didn't actually give a fuck.  
  
Steve smiled.  "Good question, and yes.  It's - Wanda and I are official citizens of Wakanda now.  Refugee status, to be adjusted as necessary, since we're not actually going to be staying here.  But we will be living in a Wakandian territory."  
  
"Wakanda has other colonies?" Sam asked.  
  
Steve nodded.  "Yes, under T'Challa's jurisdiction.  Even the perimeters surrounding the islands aren't considered international waters, even if they, kind of, should be.  On paper, we'll just be a couple of Wakandian employees stationed in the area.  All my communications and documentation will be routed through the Wakandian Embassy."  
  
"Islands, huh," Sam said, finding no immediate flaws to Cap's planning.  
  
"Yeah.  We're going to make it work and then maybe you'll get a plane reservation in a fake name mailed to you for a vacation," Steve said.  
  
"I better get a plane ticket," he pouted.  Steve crushed him in a bear hug.  
  
There was dullness in Steve's eyes that Sam recognized from the first few times they'd met.  When Bucky was dead and Steve was alive and alone.  
  
"You're not alone.  Bucky will be back and this time, you'll both be ready for it," Sam murmured.  Steve squeezed him again and leaned back with a firm nod.  
  
"We're going to call it my 'gap year'.  I'll figure out my life later but for now I'm going to make so many sandcastles," Steve said with a faint smile.  "Now go see your mother and say nice things about me so I can get one of her fruitcakes for Christmas."  
  
Steve would be getting all the fruitcakes if Sam had anything to say about it.

* * *

  
"So this island, it's listed on the approved locations for Royal holidays," Steve said, pointing at the blip on the map waving a thumbtack flag.  
  
T'Challa hummed.  "I have never visited our islands near Palawan.  I was unaware they were fitted for visitation."  
  
"It's not," one of his councilors agreed.  "But it has all the necessary clearance to offer a safe place for Wakandian diplomats to hide, or, vacation.  It has dedicated satellite and electrical services available but they've never been activated."  
  
Steve nodded.  "Exactly.  So nothing will ping the radar if you decide to send some people to the island to set up shop."  
  
"There are no hotels or settlements large enough to support an expense such as this," the same councilor said.  But she was thoughtful.  Steve didn't count her vote lost yet.  
  
Wanda spoke softly.  "We would settle here.  It has a small port and the closer islands have a market on alternate days for trade between each other.  The house would be three stories, the top for visiting dignitaries with full amenities, second floor for rich tourists and first floor as a restaurant and...tea room."  
  
T'Challa and all the councilors narrowed their eyes on him.  "Tea," the king said doubtfully.  
  
"Come on, please?  Starbucks is my favorite thing about this time," Steve blurted out, knowing he'd been caught.  
  
"So you want to open a B & B on a deserted island," T'Challa said.  
  
"Yes," Wanda answered for him.  "Along with a library because Steve has lots of books.  Which I expect him to request as soon as he has an address."  
  
"A lot of the islanders don't use the internet for entertainment or schooling so I figured a library would be good.  And I really do have a lot of books.  Warehouses of books," Steve said.  
  
"He gets to keep his books," Wanda said, squeezing his knee.  
  
T'Challa smiled and a few of the advisors let out huffs of amusement at the King's softness.  "I think that can be arranged.  We will secure the land for your home and the library.  We will discuss plans for your...tea room at a later date but I'm sure the council will have few objections to setting up a library and free internet service for our Wakandian territories."  
  
"They have a rich culture so I hope to be able to learn the local languages and maybe do some oral histories or folklore collections," Steve added absently.  "I need hobbies."  
  
"You've both done admirable research already and I'm pleased that it's a solid plan.  Since you'll be staying with us for the next month while things are prepared, I'll set you both up with language tutors.  You'll continue training and practice with our soldiers and Ms. Maximoff will continue her lessons with the Priestesses."  
  
"May I also request permission to shadow the chefs in the kitchen?  I need to learn to cook for the prospective restaurant and for me and Wanda."  
  
She cleared her throat.  "And I need to request training with the hunters I've seen in town.  Steve is not a fan of reptiles."  
  
He shuddered but still denied it.  "That lizard just startled me.  It was one time."  
  
"They have cobras.  And crocodiles," Wanda said.  
  
Someone snickered but T'Challa settled the room.  
  
Steve crossed his arms.  "Maybe I also request some lessons in first aid and extra supplies of anti-venom."  
  
T'Challa nodded with a fond expression.  "Agreed, all around.  We'll round out all of your training requests but I believe this will be a satisfactory outcome for all of us."  
  
Steve patted Wanda's hand, still on his knee.  They could do this.  They could move on.  They could find peace in a world without it.

* * *

  
Pepper cleared her throat in the doorway and Tony nearly, but not quite, spilled his coffee.  "Pepper."  
  
"Mr. Stark," she said in a cool voice that seared through the scars in his chest.  "I tried to make an appointment but you have been avoiding my calls so I decided to come in person.  I have business to discuss that cannot wait."  
  
"Sorry, things have been - "  
  
The click of her heels echoed like a starter's pistol for a race that he'd already lost.  "Unfortunately, we don't have time for apologies on either side at this point."  She dropped a thin folder on his desk.  "I've submitted my resignation, effective immediately.  Due to the current restrictions in place, I can no longer perform my duties as CEO of Stark Industries."  
  
"What?" Tony opened the file without taking his eyes away from her.  
  
"I refuse to register under the Accords.  Since I have Extremis latent in my bloodstream, I'm required to have all my movements tracked and approved and I refuse," Pepper said.  
  
The air drained out of his lungs.  "Shit."  
  
"That's what I said," Pepper snorted.  "But under the current definitions, I'm a 'weapon of mass destruction' so I have to pursue other options outside of the United States and all other countries currently under the Accords."  
  
"I'll fix it - " Tony blurted out.  
  
She didn't smile.  She didn't soothe his nerves and tell him that she 'knew he would'.  
  
"Please don't ask for any 'favors' on my account," she said instead.  "I have a good landing.  A lot of others aren't so lucky.  You should probably try to attend the board meeting in Manhattan tomorrow.  They're going to make the final decision on closing down production in the medical division.  Since SI prosthetics are now considered dangerously accelerated technology, it's not profitable until the tech is cleared by the new FDA council."  
  
"Pepper - "  
  
She skimmed him and God - her eyes were so different than when she loved him.  "You know, I believed you when you said you didn't want the Stark name linked to weapons, when you said you wanted to make it mean something better.  Howard worked on the Manhattan project.  You created Ultron.  Seems like world peace via genocide was the family legacy you decided on instead."  
  
Rhodey appeared.  "Pepper, Jesus."  
  
She raised her chin.  "Hypocrites.  If someone hacked your suit and made it kill people, do you think Tony would let the government hunt you down?  You don't think he would face down armies to rescue you before they killed you for what the suit was doing?"  She laughed humorlessly and turned back to Tony.  "They always say people who live in glass houses shouldn't throw stones.  You just make better glass and build bigger stones."

* * *

  
"Come on, Doll, give me a smile," Steve rumbled into the blonde's ear at the tiny airport's snack machine.  
  
He's lucky Natasha didn't eviscerate him on instinct but she's as cool as ever and only tilted her cheek in silent expectation of a kiss.  
  
"You're a punk ass bastard asshole that I'm going to punch in the balls later, but motherfuck it's good to see you," she hissed under her breath as she embraced him.  
  
"Back at you.  Well, not the first part because I'm not mad and you don't have balls, but I'm really glad you showed up.  I wasn't sure..."  
  
Natasha took a step back suddenly and took him in with sharp eyes.  He flexed his dark tattooed biceps dramatically in the dull overhead lights.  He knew his beard looked good so he didn't give her 'blue steel' because he didn't want to blind her with his good looks.  "You like it?"  
  
"Tattoos.  The utter fuck you to every undercover agent's chances at survival," Natasha replied dryly.  
  
He laughed and put his arm around her.  "Not when you have a witch for a roommate who has a shiny new certification in Henna Art."  
  
"And the beard - shit, Cap, I can't wait to see what you did to Barnes if you're hiding this well," she said.  
  
He didn't mean to shut down but his mind fritzed cold for a moment too long and her face fell.  "Oh - he's, he made a different choice.  He's not here.  He's safe and alive, but.  It's me and Wanda."  
  
She nodded once but it was all he needed to keep his arm in place over her shoulders.  "I hope you aren't living in a tiki hut."  
  
"We are living on a very nice boat at the moment," Steve replied.  "We've got the foundations down for - well, you'll see.  We have a long ride to the island so we'll have time to talk.  Time for you to decide if you want to stick around with us and stop fighting for a while."  
  
"I don't know if I need a 'gap year', Rogers." Natasha replied but he saw the glimmer of curiosity.  
  
"I think we earned it.  I - my head's not right, Nat.  And Wanda, God, so much power and so much *loss*, it's - we're a hot mess," Steve said honestly.  "But we have time to get our heads right before we try for anything more than we already have."  
  
"Fury said I can be Russian again, if I want.  Or he can fake some deaths for me," she said, leaning against him and matching his steps.  
  
"Or you can stay here with us and help us set up a hotel and a library.  And kill spiders."  
  
"I thought lizards were your phobia," Natasha said.  
  
Steve shuddered.  "They are still a problem.  But spiders and snakes have become equal problems.  I hope we can outfit the hotel with safeguards or else I'll be living on the boat.  Wanda speaks Parseltongue so she can take care of the reptiles."  
  
Natasha blinked at him.  
  
"I know Harry Potter's not real, it was a joke.  You seriously need a gap year," Steve said.  
  
She tilted her head.  "Maybe so.  Not sure how I can help."  
  
"You'll find something.  Once the work's finished, I'll be the chef and do whatever maintenance the house needs," Steve said.  "Can't wait for you to try my surf-and-turf menu.  Wanda's handling the library and the paperwork side of it.  We'll have staff and stuff, too.  We have plans outside of work."  
  
"What kind of plans?" Natasha asked.  
  
"They have caves and coral reefs and beautiful birds and - I feel like painting again.  Wanda says that she has a spirit animal that the magical priestesses say will find her if she is worthy, so there's a quest - but they promised it's not a reptile or arachnid of any kind," he added.  She was smiling.  "I could use a friend right now, Natasha."  
  
"You have one.  Thank you for sanctuary," Natasha said after a long moment.  
  
"It's not supposed to be sanctuary.  It's supposed to be *home* and you're always going to be welcome in my home, Natasha."  
  
"I already said I was in, stop being sappy," she huffed.  "We're going to talk about Barnes, right?"  
  
Steve took a deep breath and tasted the salt of the nearby ocean.  "Wednesday nights, we drink five shots of vodka at midnight and I talk about Bucky.  She talks about Pietro.  One night, every seven days we have to talk but the rest of the week we don't have to talk."  
  
"Are there exceptions?" she asked.  
  
"There are always exceptions but we're in public and I would prefer not to talk about it with you until we're at least on the boat."  
  
Natasha stopped him and took both wrists, pressing her fingers hard into his pulse points.  "He's alive and safe but you still act like he's dead."  
  
"Because he asked to go back into the ice and in my head that's worse than being dead.  It's not Wednesday, I can't talk about this right now," Steve clipped off.  
  
"Fuck."  She hugged him forcefully and it was definitely all Natasha without any Widow.  "Take me to your island, Rogers."

* * *

  
The boat was full of books.  History books, faded noir novels and highlighted paperback Shakespeare and collections of Beatles photoshoots - books that didn't belong to any pattern or train of thought.  
  
It bothered her.  She didn't know why but after a meal fit for a PBS special and her first calm sleep in years on the gently rocking yacht - she couldn't take the puzzle.  Steve and Wanda were still sleeping, in the same room but it wasn't time to question that yet, so she organized.  
  
Books under the chairs, in the first aid kit - a history of blacksmithing under the kitchen sink and a travel guide to 'Sheep-Country of the British Isles' in the freezer.  
  
Final count was 282 books.  Alphabetized but still without pattern when Steve found her.  
  
"Um.  I have a lot of books," he said, wiping his hands absently on his loose jeans.  He wasn't eating enough.  "The big delivery's coming in when the library's ready to store them, but I had some crates sent ahead to kill time.  I bought out a bunch of library sales when I figured out how to do it online so I have warehouses full of old books pulled from the shelves."  
  
Oh.  That was why there was no reasoning to the types of books - they were just discarded random books headed to the landfill.  
  
"It's like a treasure hunt for me, I always find something new," Steve said, running his fingers down the spines of the tallest stack.  "That's why Wanda's in charge of sorting out the library part.  I'm only allowed cookbooks, crafts and languages in the main areas.  I can only read my favorites in my own personal space because it makes Wanda uncomfortable."  
  
Wanda stepped in then, smiling faintly at the stacked books.  "He is obsessed with John Milton and William Blake.  I worry what people will think," she said.  
  
"Oh.  That's not what I expected you to say," she said honestly.  This was completely not what she expected.  
  
"I'm not obsessed.  I just ran out of Shakespeare and Marlowe but we got new boxes," Steve frowned.  "It helps me paint."  
  
"I like the mysteries," Wanda said, scanning the books with more intent.  
  
"I'm going to start breakfast in the hopes you will be done judging me by the time you're ready to eat," Steve said.  
  
Natasha sat down on the couch.  "Sorry if I messed up your...mess."  He waved her off as he ducked out of the room.  
  
Wanda tsked.  "He always has a book or a tool in his hands.  He keeps himself busy."  
  
"How is he doing?" she asked.  "I saw you in his room."  
  
Wanda sat down.  "I don't think he can sleep without someone in the room with him.  I - it's hard for me, too.  Pietro," she hesitated.  "We always shared a bed, a crib - always.  We were stronger together, even asleep."  
  
Natasha nodded.  "I understand.  It's not my place either way - "  
  
"You are welcome to join us, he won't mind.  He's touch-starved, so he will cuddle anything within his reach, but if you don't mind that, the sleep is worth it," Wanda whispered.  She smiled.  "He might even let you kiss him."  
  
Natasha covered her mouth with a feigned gasp and the girl laughed brightly.  She was hanging out with Steve too much.  
  
"We'll save that offer once you've made up your mind for sure," Wanda said.  
  
She put her hand on Wanda's wrist.  "I have to find my place, too, but I am staying."  She paused, trying to find words for a feeling she wasn't sure existed outside of her own head.  "I've never been a girl.  A person.  I was created from human parts but I never - I always have a part, a role to play and I don't know who I am underneath."  
  
"Sure you do.  And if you don't, you can make it up as you go along.  I'm not Pietro's shy sister, or the terrifying Scarlet Witch," Wanda said.  "I'm a girl that's learning how to sew her own bathing suits and practicing Henna tattoos and learning Tagalog.  I have the entire collection of The Babysitter's Club and Sweet Valley High in my quarters so Steve won't snitch them.  We can be ourselves here, even if we don't know who we are quite yet."  
  
"I want all the Regency Romance novels," Natasha decided.  Wanda smiled brightly.  
  
"Steve has some of those in the armory below deck," Wanda said.

* * *

  
He knew it would happen eventually, but he'd surprised it took this long.  
  
He remembered breakfast, fruit and fresh bread.  They had the walls up and the roof was on schedule for tomorrow.  He remembered that.  
  
But he didn't remember how long he had been sitting on his bed.  How long had he been shaking.  How long had his hands been pressed against his eyes.  Black black black, not white, not the cold dull white of ice - of a box - an ocean - but dark, spotted dark.  
  
"Hush, stop that now," soothed Natasha, her delicate and deadly fingers tugging at his hands until she freed them.  "You're all right."  
  
"All right," he repeated.  Good.  He could be all right.  
  
"Wanda said you got like this sometimes.  Just relax.  Do you trust me?"  
  
"Of course," he said instinctively.  Her hands were hot on his frozen skin, feather-light swipes of warmth on his throat, on his pulse."  
  
She spoke in a soft rasp.  "The fountains mingle with the river and the rivers with the ocean, the winds of heaven mix forever with a sweet emotion.  Nothing in the world is single; all things by a law divine in one spirit meet and mingle.  Why not I with thine?"  
  
Her touch seemed to bring him back to himself in soft circles on his neck and shoulders, down his spine.    
  
"See the mountains kiss high heaven and the waves clasp one another; No sister-flower would be forgiven if it disdained its brother.  And the sunlight clasps the earth and the moonbeams kiss the sea: What is all this sweet work worth if thou kiss not me?" she whispered, her lips brushing his neck below his hairline in a breath of a kiss.  
  
He breathed.  
  
"Alive and safe," she murmured.  
  
"Alive and safe."  
  
"And loved," Natasha added.  
  
"Loved.  All of us," Steve agreed, catching her hand and placing a kiss on the lifeline of her palm.  
  
"Can I kiss you?"  
  
"Why?" he asked without thinking.  
  
"Because you trust me.  Because you know it's out of love, even if it's not the same kind.  Because I need you to not feel alone."  
  
Wanda's scent filled his senses and he reached out his hand and pulled her close, ignoring her worried eyes.  He kissed her palm, too, the lifeline.  They were alive.  
  
"Alive and safe and loved," he recited, tilting Wanda's chin down for a kiss before turning to take one from Natasha.  
  
"Not alone," Natasha said, cupping his cheek.  "Breathe."  
  
"I choose to be alive and safe and loved.  And not alone," Steve said.  
  
He breathed.  He could breathe.

* * *

  
"Tony.  Tony.  Wake up.  You all right?"  
  
He scrubbed his hand across his numb cheek.  At least falling asleep on a tablet didn't leave keyboard marks on his face.  "Yeah.  What time is'it?"  
  
"Early," Rhodey said, sitting down with a whir of gears.  "Look, Tones."  
  
"Shit.  What is it today?" he groaned.  Rhodey didn't reply with a flippant 'it's not that bad' or 'relax' so he knew it had to be worse.  
  
"The registry's been leaked.  They lost 23 Inhumans last week, and that's just off that list, we don't have a tally of all the enhanced linked to the casualty lists from last week yet.  You need to make a statement."  
  
"I got the Parker kid off the list.  Managed to get people with the X Gene Mutation off, too, so Xavier will just have to deal with the existing litigation for that.  Are they tracking the leak?"  
  
"SHIELD's been reactivated under new leadership to handle the indexing.  Whatever that means considering everything else, who knows," Rhodey sighed.  
  
Tony banged his head on the desk.  "I'm - what do I do, Rhodey?  I know I can't fix this, I can't stop what I started, but what the fuck am I supposed to do?  I'm not a politician, this isn't what - people are dying."  
  
"There are some serious issues with the Accords, we both know that - but we can't just scrap the good ideas because of the bad ones that got through," Rhodey said.  
  
"Fuck.  I - I'm compromised," Tony groaned.  "Nobody's going to take me seriously after the whole Winter Soldier fiasco."  
  
"Then make them.  You want to fix it?  Fix it.  I know about that phone in your drawer.  Fix it," Rhodey said.  
  
"They stripped his rank," Tony whispered.  
  
"I know," Rhodey sighed.  
  
"He can never come home."  
  
"I know."  
  
"I can't fix it."  
  
Rhodey slammed his hand on the table.  "Shut up.  If something's broken, you can fix it.  You're Tony Fucking Stark."

* * *

  
"Jesus Christ, Steve - are there leeches down there or something?" Sam asked, boggling at the bruises peppered across his friend's bare chest.  He'd gotten used to the beard and tattoos, even the peppering of chest hair was normal lately but not the marks.  
  
"Oh.  No.  The ladies and I are, well, trying a version of touch therapy that goes a little further than cuddle piles - but not as far as you're thinking.  It's private," Steve said, flushing.  
  
Sam face-palms.  "Then wear a shirt, man.  Ladies, plural?  Not just Wanda?"  
  
"Hi Sam!" a familiar voice called offscreen.  
  
"Is that - that's not fair.  You can't have Wanda and Natasha," Sam hissed.  
  
"You can't be jealous because Barton says that you're dating - " Wanda's voice drifted over.  
  
"Please don't tell Sharon," Steve cut her off.  Sam didn't know if he should be worried for not bringing it up himself.  
  
"You're not mad?" Sam asked after a beat.  
  
"She's a great woman and you're a great guy.  If I'm not getting horizontal with either of you then it's only fair you can get horizontal with each other," Steve said, avoiding his gaze.  "This, whole, intimacy thing with the three of us here, it's working for us.  I think.  I had a few bad days and...we're okay here.  I want you and Sharon to be okay there.  Are you okay?"  
  
"Yeah.  I am, we both are.  Do you want to talk politics or - "  
  
"No thank you.  How's Mrs. Wilson doing?"  
  
Sam allowed the small talk, filling the airtime with stories of time with his family and around town and when he ran out of filler, Wanda and Natasha were both flanking Steve at the laptop with faint smiles.  
  
"Thanks.  I miss you," Steve said after a beat.  They'd lived in each other's pockets too long not to.  
  
"Me, too.  You want them to stay for the real talk portion of this call?"  
  
Steve nodded.  Natasha glanced at him, then Wanda with a curious expression.  
  
"Cap doesn't want to go to actual therapy, but he has talk sessions with Sam on Monday and Friday," Wanda answered.  "That's why we have our talk sessions on Wednesdays."  
  
Sam's proud that they're talking out loud instead of just having 'escalated touch therapy' sessions.  "All right then.  You want to talk about your bad days?  Your words, not theirs," he said preemptively at Wanda's slight twitch.  
  
Steve visible inhaled.  "It's winter in Brooklyn right now.  But it's always winter somewhere so I don't - I haven't been able to shake the cold.  I hope Bucky's not cold.  He said that it - it's different for him, the cryo-tube is different than the ice - he swore it was different but I can't - it's been a bad week."  
  
"Flashbacks?" Sam asked gently.  
  
"I just get cold.  Everything's too white, dull.  So.  Maybe.  Maybe from the ice."  
  
"You weren't awake," Natasha said.  
  
"Maybe," Wanda whispered.  
  
"They got me out of my head.  Natasha knows poetry and Wanda doesn't feel like frostbite when she touches my fingers," Steve said, not looking at anyone.  "I didn't get stuck in it."  
  
"That's good, that's great, Steve, but you need to think about what you can do if they're not nearby.  Did you have any warning?"  
  
Steve shook his head.  "Not that I can remember.  Maybe the calendar.  Is it - is it snowing in Brooklyn?"  
  
"Flurries," Sam replied after a beat.  He wasn't going to lie to the guy.  
  
"I'm never going to see it again," Steve said quietly.  
  
Too many knots to untangle in today's call but Sam just needed to loosen the ropes enough for Steve to untie himself.  
  
"It's our last night on the boat," Steve said, his blue eyes clearer as he apparently decided therapy was over for today.  "Next call from me will be from my permanent bedroom on land."  
  
"I look forward to it," Sam nodded.  
  
"Are you okay, Sam?  The feds and the agencies aren't - " Steve hesitated.  
  
"You said you didn't want to talk politics, but I'm getting by."  Sam and Sharon were both getting by.  Hell, they were slightly untouchable considering how much press they were getting for the 'Clear Our Cap' Campaign.  
  
"Good.  I - I need my friends to be safe and - I can never tell if you're being straight with me about how you are," Steve admitted.  "If I could see you in person, I'd be more likely to believe it."  
  
"Well, I'm still checking the mailbox for that plane ticket so get your ass off a boat and start fixing me up a bed," Sam said.  "And Cap - I'm fine.  Everyone's fine."  
  
Steve gave a final nod and Sam settled his own worries with the final image of Wanda's spindly arms wrapped around Steve's right arm in a braid of limbs and Natasha's head leaning on his opposite shoulder, relaxed and content.  They were taking care of each other.  Thank God someone was looking after them.  
  
He'd save the sexual healing warnings for later.

* * *

  
Tony took two shots of double espresso and tried not to wish it was scotch before climbing out of the car.  At least Happy was still around.  Happy and Rhodey were his touchstones at this point.  
  
He hopes Sam's still Cap's touchstone since Tony's too much of a chickenshit to use the 'emergencies only' phone.  
  
He rang the doorbell and didn't glance at the twitching curtains and adjusted the pack on his shoulders.  Better than a camera or rifle flash, he figured at this point.  
  
The door finally opened and Sam Wilson filled the doorway with a stern expression.  "Why the *fuck* would you think you'd be welcome here?"  
  
He didn't answer right way, letting his presence sink in.  "I know I'm not welcome.  But I'm - I would really like a chance to talk to you, clear the air before I reach out to Cap."  
  
"He's not Cap anymore," Sam replied instantly.  
  
Tony reached behind him and put down the pack with the shield with a thunk.  "Then this belongs to you now," he said.  "Please.  I need to talk to someone, I need someone with clear eyes to help me fix this clusterfuck.  Even if he never talks to me again, even if you decide to bust my kneecaps for even coming near you, whatever - this is me trying to clean up my mess."  
  
Sam didn't respond.  He didn't even glance at the bag at his feet.  
  
"You don't owe me anything, none of you do but - " Tony started.  Sam closed the door in his face and he let out a sigh.  
  
Happy rolled the window down and called for him but Tony wanted to give it a few more minutes, just in case the soldier's conscience gave him pause.  
  
The door opened again and Sam held out his phone.  Tony took it without question.  
  
"Hm.  What is't?"  
  
"Steve," Tony realized.  
  
"Oh.  Hey, Tony.  Everything okay?"  
  
"Not so much.  It's not - it's not an emergency but - " Tony hesitated.  
  
"Your people okay?  Safe?" Steve asked immediately.  
  
"Yeah.  Yours?"  
  
"Yeah.  Even Rhodes?"  
  
"Yeah," Tony answered.  "He's good."  
  
"Good.  What do you want with Sam?" Steve asked after a beat.  
  
Tony wondered if Steve had any idea that his wingless BFF had been setting up protest marches in his name.  "Advice.  Have you watched the news lately?"  
  
"No.  Sam's taking care of that.  You said it wasn't an emergency, is that true?"  
  
"The Accords are a clusterfuck and I need advice from someone on the other side.  I need help.  I need - " he didn't say 'you', he didn't say 'please', he didn't say -  
  
"I'm glad you're okay, Tony."  There was a hushed whisper in the background of Steve's side of the call but Steve spoke again a tick louder.  "Please let me speak to Sam."  
  
Sam took the phone.  "Yeah.  Sorry for waking you up, I know, but this line isn't supposed to be for this kind of shit - go back to sleep and we'll catch up later.  I got it.  I'm always nice, but sure, I'll be nice," he said into the phone with a glare at Tony before he slipped it back into his pocket and nodding for Tony to follow him into the modest townhouse.  
  
"It's a pretty shitty time for you to come calling," Sam said.  "And if Steve asks, you better tell him that I'm being damn polite.  What do you want from me?"  
  
"He said you were watching the politics for him so you know why I'm here.  The Accords are so twisted up that they barely resemble the original papers," Tony said.  
  
Sam snorted.  "Did you read the original ones?  Because Steve read the draft from cover to cover on the way to Peggy's funeral.  It was flawed from the beginning - the base idea is valid - but Registration and - "  
  
Tony held up his hand.  "I fucking know.  It's a shitshow, I get it, I know it, but I burned a lot of bridges that I can't get back and I can't make this better without help."  He moved his hand to rub his eyes because fuck.  "Fuck.  Rhodey said I'm going to have my shit together when I demand an international review of the Accords.  He has to stay impartial and back the Air Force's play and I get that, but Vision barely speaks to me and I lost Natasha, too and I just - I need someone to help me make this right."  
  
Sam searched his face.  "How are you going to just get an international review?"  
  
"Press conference, I'll lay out what's gone down with the leak of the Index and the cyborg invasion in Mexico that killed 312 people because, even though they signed the Accords, it wasn't judged important enough to call in the Avengers," Tony spat out.  "They reactivated SHIELD, pretty convenient considering the state of things right now."  
  
Sam sighed.  "Shit went down in Belarus last week, too.  They didn't sign the Accords but when a few registered soldiers went in anyway and resolved the situation - they got arrested for going AWOL."  
  
Tony took a breath.  "Will you help me make it right?  Or at least better?"

* * *

  
Natasha bowed in respect as King T'Challa joined her a few steps apart from his impressive royal guard at the helipad.  She hadn't known the king would be visiting in person, she assumed Steve's diplomatic connections were for show.  
  
"I am glad to see you accepted Steven's invitation," T'Challa said.  "He's a good man, but I worry for his youth.  And his fame."  
  
She glanced at him.  "I thought the worst wave was over."  
  
T'Challa tilted his head.  "The UN is meeting next week to reevaluate the Accords and we have received multiple requests for the Captain to make an appearance."  
  
She sighed.  "He hasn't mentioned that.  I'm off-grid for one of the first times in my life and I should be monitoring the news.  He can't go."  
  
"That is his decision to make, yes?  My messengers have sent high praise of their work here," T'Challa said.  
  
"I'm sure he would have sent the jeep to get your people if he knew, is this a surprise inspection or just a friendly visit to get Captain America back in the suit?" Natasha asked.  
  
"The American public, and beyond, are quite opposed to how Steven's trial and sentence were handled.  Some countries that signed up with the Accords have refused to acknowledge that his titles were stripped," T'Challa explained.  
  
She nodded to direct his attention to the beach path leading up toward the massive house and library wing above.  Steve was surrounded by his cluster of ducklings from the market, kids from the local islands brought along by their parents.  But the parents had long stopped giving Steve suspicious looks and left the chattering children with him easily now.  
  
"Hands," Steve called out in easy Tagalog.  The children held up grubby fingers.  "Wash and dry and then you can see what I found."  T'Challa watched with a fond expression as the minions scrubbed their hands clean with antiseptic wipes Steve kept on hand.  
  
"Settle down, the library will be ready soon for you to hunt for stories yourself, but I sorted out some good ones for you," Steve resumed, reaching into a box.  "I have fairy tales with witches and princesses and maybe a dragon or two for the lovely Kia," he held out a book that was snatched into the depths of a child riot by a tiny hand.  "Rockets and the history of the first men on the moon for Codie, and dinosaurs for Chan and Miha and Mio..."  
  
"He's going to think you're here because there's been a change with Barnes," Natasha realized suddenly.  
  
T'Challa nodded.  "I have much to discuss with Steven, but we should not interrupt."

* * *

  
"Longing.  Rusted.  Seventeen."  
  
"I'm sorry, are you talking to me?"  
  
"Daybreak, Furnace, Nine."  
  
"Hello, lady?  I mean, Ladies?"  
  
"Benign, Homecoming."  
  
"Oh, I know what this is."  
  
"One."  
  
"We've done this already."  
  
"Freight Car."  
  
"Bucky Barnes, again, Dr. Yu.  Can we have dinner before we do the memory game this time?  I'm starving."

* * *

  
Steve’s nostrils flared as he processed the King’s summary of current events and Natasha held her breath.  "I made the deal."  He didn't regret making the deal to get his friends free and clear.  
  
"It was a shitty deal," Natasha said.  "They had no right to take your medals."  
  
"I don’t care about the goddamn medals," Steve snapped.  "I don't care about any of that right now, I just - "  
  
"You wanted your friends out of jail and your Bucky off the most-wanted list, we get that but - " Wanda started.  
  
"Obviously not if they're having marches in my name - Sam - he's arranging marches in my name," Steve blurted out.  "Why the hell would he do that?"  He trusted Sam, he thought Sam understood...  
  
T'Challa seemed unbothered by Steve's rising anxiety.  "You may not consider your sacrifice important but many citizens and veterans consider it unacceptable.  Much like Sergeant Barnes."  
  
Steve didn't react to the name drop, he couldn't let himself, but Wanda and Natasha both cut their full attention to the king.  "He never gave a damn about rank," Steve said.  
  
T'Challa cleared his throat.  "He is quite upset with the current state of play."  
  
"Then he should've stuck around to help me with a different plan, fuck him," Steve replied vacantly.  Wanda inhaled sharply but Steve only shook his head.  "It was the best deal I could've hoped for, it's not 1943, I'm not a Captain and he's not a Sergeant and I'm not a superhero and he's not an assassin and - shit, I left dough out to rise in the kitchen - " he cut off, starting for the stairs until Natasha stepped into his way.  
  
"No.  You're going to sit down and be respectful to the King of Wakanda and stop being a brat," she said.  
  
Steve blinked at her.  "I'm not a brat."  
  
"I will check on the dinner preparations and ensure that Sam will be expecting your call," Wanda offered, standing up.  She paused long enough to reach up and stroke Steve's cheek gently.  "Settle."  It worked even if he was too frustrated to think about why.  
  
"Right, what she said," Natasha smiled when he felt his lungs start to fill with air again.  She tugged him over to sit down and kept the contact with her hand on his knee.  "Apologies, your Majesty."  
  
"None required.  Steven and I are friends apart from our titles, renounced or valid," T'Challa said.  
  
"Bucky's awake," Steve stated finally.  He could deal.  Sure.  
  
"Yes.  They weren't able to remove the programming completely but they have subverted the triggers."  
  
Natasha dug her nails into his thigh to silence him.  "Programming can never fully be removed," she said.  
  
"Exactly.  But the trigger words no longer activate blind obedience.  They bring him great clarity.  He compares it to a bucket of ice water poured on his psyche.  He is very unhappy with you right now," T'Challa added carefully.  
  
"That's not new," he muttered.  Bucky hadn't been happy to see him, hell, since he was smaller.  "I'm glad he's better."  
  
The room was silent apart from the buzzing of the fans.  
  
"That's it?" Natasha asked finally.  
  
"He can go home," Steve replied.  "He's safe in his own body, his own head."  Maybe he could find someone that he would he happy to see.  
  
"His home seems to be wherever you are," T'Challa said.  
  
"Then he would have called me by now," Steve replied.  "If he was ready to see me, he would've called me."  
  
"He said the same thing about you," the king countered.  
  
"Let's back up," Steve said.  It was a regular day, the sky wasn't falling and he was safe and alive and not alone.  "Let's talk about the UN.  Do you think I should go?"  
  
T'Challa's eyes flicked to Natasha but Steve shook his head.  "I know what she thinks, I want to know what you think."

**Author's Note:**

> Location is based on some googling for Linapacan Island, Palawan, Philippines.
> 
> I think Wanda's magic would make Bucky's arm hum and it's almost like its a real arm when she touches him. And Bucky would kiss the scar on her belly from the Winter Soldier's bullet. And Bucky is possibly even more terrified of lizards than Steve and the natives often see one or both of them standing on chairs in horror while they wait for the women to save them.
> 
> **Natasha's poem is: "Love's Philosophy" by Percy Bysshe Shelley.


End file.
